


Children of Dust and Ashes

by maxolotl67



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxolotl67/pseuds/maxolotl67
Summary: Triple H/reader (gender-nonspecific)Set in a Mad Max-esque future, a scrapper enters the court and good graces of a mysterious king.





	Children of Dust and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. This ended up being way too long. And porny. Oops. This is directly inspired by Triple H’s WM35 entrance, which I loved far more than is probably healthy. Title comes from a song in Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812, a highly underrated musical.

Coughing weakly as a breeze kicked up a dust cloud, you shielded a hand over your eyes and scanned the horizon. Nothing for miles save desert and rock. 

No one knew you were gone yet, but it wasn’t likely to stay that way for long. With any luck, maybe they would forget about you and drive off in the other direction. But that would still leave you stranded. 

Shade. Water. Options. Three very important things that you currently lacked. Still, it was better than staying and risking death. Or worse. You resolved to keep walking, quickly and quietly and as far away as possible. 

Minutes stretched out into hours. Maybe even days. Your feet hurt, there was dirt in your eyes, and you’d long since lost track of which tire tracks were the ones to avoid following. Had the sun moved at all? You couldn’t remember. The horizon stayed the same no matter which way you turned your head. Was this hell? Had you died in that ramshackle camp and this was your punishment? That distant growl was probably the devil’s hound out for your blood.

Wait. Growl?

Far off to the south, the horizon had suddenly changed. You were no longer alone. Over the crest of a dune came a single solitary wagon, its engine baying like an angry predator. It seemed to be heading north - that was, until it made a sudden turn straight for you. 

You wanted to flee, but every part of your body screamed in protest at the idea. It seemed unlikely that you could even get away or think to hide. You fell to your knees, exhausted. Hopefully this one would at least think to kill you quickly. 

The car was clearly built for speed, exchanging size and practical armor for mobility and acceleration, yet the iron chains and barbed wire wrapped erratically around its sturdy frame suggested its builder was familiar with combat. There was only one rider. They wore a mask and hood, obscuring their face. You closed your eyes, resigned to your fate. 

The engine fell silent. Two heavy boots hit the ground. 

“Your reverence is appreciated,” a deep voice said, with more than a hint of amusement. “Though in your case, it isn’t necessary.”

Looking up and blinking against the light, you saw the rider had removed his hood and mask. He was a tall man, bald and muscular, with loose-fitting leather clothing, rust-colored eyes, and a commanding bearing. Your immediate reaction was one of awe - he was at once the most intimidating and the most intriguing person you’d ever seen. Perhaps this wouldn’t end in your death after all. 

You shakily rose to your feet, politely refusing his outstretched hand when he offered it. “Why’s that? Are you a king?”

He smiled mysteriously. “The king of kings, baby.”

You groaned inwardly. _Men._ “If that’s the case, why are you out here alone? Don’t kings usually travel with an entourage?”

“Heard scattered reports of raiders traveling through our lands. Wanted to check for myself.” He squinted back in the direction you’d come from. “Small time, by the looks of it. Not worth bothering with just yet. You see them?” 

“Came from their camp, actually. Bastards stole my wagon.”

He looked you over, raising an eyebrow. “Must not be a smart bunch, letting you out of sight. Why don’t you come with me and we can discuss it?”

Discuss? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Could this kingly stranger be trusted? Was this another cage waiting to happen? You sighed. Even if this man was a tyrant, riding with him back to wherever he came from sounded better than dying of thirst out here. “Fine,” you said after a moment. “Though I doubt I could tell you anything you don’t already know, your highness.”

That earned you a laugh. “Please, call me Hunter.” He gestured for you to take the gunner post. You did so with a satisfied smile. 

Hunter threw the wagon in gear, and it set off back south with a mighty roar. Yours had barely held together even at the best of times, so it was a refreshing change of pace to ride on a rig built for speed. If you played your cards right, maybe you could score yourself a setup like this. 

Over a number of dunes and through a maze of stones the wagon flew, until you came to the edge of a dried lake bed. Or was it a crater? At the center lay a massive fortress adorned with flags. You didn’t recognize the emblem from any of the groups you’d come across in the wasteland - black fabric with a big yellow X. 

So, an insular society ruled by a reasonable king, with fast rigs, a presumably large force, and a willingness to talk with strangers? This would be interesting. 

The garage was cool and dark, an instant relief from the hellscape you’d left behind. Again Hunter offered you his hand, but you climbed off the wagon yourself without a word. King’s guest or not, you wouldn’t be patronized to today. 

“What’s the word, boss?” A voice called from a high catwalk. You couldn’t see their face clearly, though you did see an impossibly long braid dangling over the edge of the railing. 

“Trouble brewing in the southwest,” Hunter called back. “Get Lorcan and Burch out there. I need numbers, I need defenses. No engagement, got it? Purely an assessment.” 

The person with the braid gave him a lazy salute and skipped off. Hunter gave you a smile that left a fluttering feeling in your stomach. “One of my kids. Not literally, of course. You’ll get to know them.”

Of course. A large group like this would need a familial bond to stay strong. As you followed Hunter through a series of hallways, you took note of the dormitory-like rooms, a few small armories, even a communal kitchen. Maybe an extended stay here wouldn’t be completely awful.

The two of you came to a large space, clearly meant for group gatherings. The high ceilings and second floor walkway around the room you understood, but what you found most notable and most perplexing about the room was the raised square platform in the center, surrounded by ropes attached to posts. A combat arena? A space for the king to address his subjects? Both?

On this platform, two men were exchanging blows. Not hard-hitting ones, though. It looked like they were training, though to what end you couldn’t guess. Hand-to-hand fighting wasn’t common in the wastes, or at least that was the case with the raiding groups you’d met. 

“We have a guest,” Hunter boomed, stopping them in their tracks. “Johnny, stay here. Tommaso, I need Dream and Shayna in here now. See if Hanson and Rowe are back, we’ll need them too.” His tone was a lot different with his followers than it was with you. His authority definitely wasn’t to be challenged here. 

The man with the grizzled beard nodded and ran from the room. The other jumped down from the ring with a smile. You saw then that his belt buckle was exceptionally large and made of what looked to be gold. It was marked with the same emblem you’d seen on the flags outside. “Johnny Wrestling,” he said, extending his hand to you. “Good to have you on board.”

“Don’t get excited,” Hunter corrected as he ascended the stairs on one corner of the ring. “They’re not signed just yet. Let’s hear their story before we decide anything.” You appreciated Johnny’s welcoming nature nonetheless, so you shook his hand politely. 

A tough-looking woman entered the room, followed by a man draped in black linens. Both of them had belt buckles similar to Johnny’s, but otherwise their contrasting styles and demeanors almost made you laugh. If the people here were all this diverse, you’d fit right in. 

“The Era’s been looking for you again, your highness,” the man drawled. “Always on and on about their rematches. Frankly, the Dream is tired of it.”

Hunter groaned, a long-suffering kind of sound. “Thank you, I’ll deal with them later. Everyone in the ring, now.” The three with the belts climbed between the ropes, until all the eyes in the room were on you and you realized that he had meant you too. Oh right, this was supposed to be about you. You scrambled in and stood awkwardly next to Hunter, who cleared his throat.

“As you know, since we’ve decreased the number of border teams there’s been a bigger need to keep an eye on movement outside our territory. Now, the last thing I want is to weaken our force by sending those teams back out there. What we need is to look into the possibility of more long-range recognizance. Outposts, checkpoints, whatever’s necessary to keep outsiders out of our territory. I want each of you to talk to your friends, have them talk to their friends, and start drafting plans. No idea is too small or too dumb. Have it on my desk as soon as you’re able.”

You were so caught up by Hunter’s expert calculations and contagious confidence that it took a moment to realize he’d turned to smile at you. “In the meantime, I’ve brought in someone you might call an expert. Our new friend here can give us a better idea about what goes on in just one enemy camp. Care to start from the beginning?”

Clearing your throat, you told them everything that you remembered about the raiders and their camp, from the details of your capture, guesses at their defenses and social structure, identifying markers and symbols, to numbers and potential weak points and how you’d escaped. You weren’t exactly a tactician, and it was hard to tell from their faces if they were impressed, but hopefully your information would be helpful to them in some way. 

“And, uh. That was where your king found me,” you finished with a sideways glance to Hunter. “I’m glad he did. Without my wagon, my chances out there weren’t great.”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth formed part of that mysterious smile you were starting to like. “Well, you did well to make it as far as you did. Flying solo takes guts.” He turned to the others. “Let that be a lesson to everyone. You were once independents just like our friend here. You’re here now because you’re strong. Clever. Resourceful. The best at what you do. We will endure because of you. What’s our name?”

“N-X-T!” they shouted back, chests puffed and faces flush with pride. 

“I can’t hear you,” he roared at them, beaming. 

“N-X-T!”

“WHAT’S OUR NAME?”

“N-X-T!”

“Dismissed.”

Their determination was utterly infectious. As they filed out of the room, leaving you and Hunter alone, you were grinning. “Interesting bunch. Are all your kids like this?”

“Most of them. If they aren’t yet, they’ll get there with time.” Hunter stood opposite you in the ring and gestured to the walls around you. “That’s why I built this place. To shape the future. You know as well as I do that the wasteland doesn’t make warriors. It breaks them. Only by standing together do we have a chance to change the world.”

You hummed in careful consideration. “That’s quite a goal. You think you’re the one to make that possible?”

He smiled again. Damn that smile. How could a simple smile transform a face so completely? “I know that I am. And I know that everyone in this place believes it too. And I want you to help me make it happen.”

You blinked slowly. “Beg your pardon?”

As if impassioned by the mere utterance of his mission, Hunter stepped forward and took both your hands. “Stay,” he implored. “Train with us. I see in your eyes the same spark that laid the cornerstones of this place. The same spark that will ignite the flames of the future. You could be safe here. Food, water, a family to watch your back and help you grow into a champion. You could stand by my side as we build a better tomorrow.”

This was too good to be true. There was no way it could really be that simple. You were just a scrappy-looking scavenger, not a champion, and certainly not someone who could change the future. What was Hunter seeing in you that you somehow missed? 

You exhaled shakily. “I don’t know. I...I don’t think I’m good enough for this place.” 

The look in Hunter’s eyes was warm and reassuring. No one had ever looked at you like that before. “That’s alright. Give it a few days. If it’s not the right fit, you’ll know. For now, get down to the mess and get some dinner in you. Find Shawn. He’s my second-in-command, he’ll get you set up with your own bunk and a schedule.”

You’d only just arrived here, and already you were allowed to go places on your own? What a strange family. Hunter sent you off, saying something about royal duties awaiting him in his office, and you were eventually able to find your way through the narrow hallways to the expansive kitchen. 

Shawn proved to be easy to locate. His laughter was uproarious and jovial, and the small crowd of young drivers behind him spoke to his respectability and experience. He knew you were Hunter’s guest before you said a thing - he waved it off as fast-traveling gossip - and after sitting down with you and a hearty bowl of stew, he peered over a pair of dusty glasses at a long list of names. 

“Let’s put you in with Kushida for right now,” he said, scribbling a note. “He’s a newer face. Confident, experienced in the ring, and he needs a driver. You two can learn from each other.” Looking up, he flashed you a wry smile. “Boss must like you. He normally doesn’t bring in new blood unless he knows what they can do in the ring. You get a name yet?”

You frowned in confusion. “Name?”

“Yeah, your ring name! Or your family name, if you like. People who come here, or who are running away from what’s out there, they get a chance to start over.” Shawn gave you a roguish grin. “You think the king lets just anyone call him Hunter? That’s just for people he likes. His ring name is Triple H. Last poor sucker that called him Hunter without permission got two months kitchen duty. A name for you just means you’re part of the team now.”

Huh. You’d never considered the possibility of using any other name but your own before. But then, you’d never been a part of anything quite this meaningful before. Maybe this would be a good place to start over. To have a family. 

You must have looked lost in thought, because Shawn then nudged you with an elbow. “Don’t stress about it too much. If you’ve got ideas, he’ll hear you out. He’s our king, sure, but he’s not a complete asshole, y’know?”

You nodded. That made sense. Just as you were about to ask more about Hunter, the doors to the kitchen swung open with a loud bang. Four men entered, looking very angry, and marched toward the front table where the gargantuan stew pot rested. One of them stopped and glared at you, his eyes a startling blue. You wondered what you’d done to earn his ire.

“You the new stray?” he asked. “His majesty wanted to see you after dinner.”

“Watch it, Cole,” Shawn warned. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

Cole, or whatever his name was, scoffed and sauntered away. You kept your head down, staring at the dregs of your dinner. Men like him didn’t scare you. There were more important things to think about. Like what your new name could be. 

-

You stood outside the massive wooden door longer than was probably necessary. Every time you thought about raising your hand to knock, your stomach did a couple backflips. There would be no going back from this. Hunter was accepting you into his fold, more or less agreeing to care for you and train you to be a fighter. Someone who could stand with him without fear and face the future. Nothing you’d ever done before carried this much finality. Once you accepted your new name, this place would become your home, and Hunter would be your king. 

A fleeting worry crossed your mind - _what if he was disappointed in you, what if you failed to please him, what if he never spoke to you again after today_ \- but you did your best to push it away. Unable to bear the waiting anymore, you knocked three times. 

“Enter.”

You did, and the luxury that you beheld was instantly overwhelming. There was a cushy rug under your feet, the walls were lined with carefully crafted portraits and well-worn golden buckles, and the heady scent of incense hung in the air. So not only was this Hunter’s office, this had to be his personal room. Only a king would go out of his way to make his space as befitting of his station as possible. 

Hunter sat in a massive chair behind a polish metal desk, bent over a stack of papers. He looked up when the door shut behind you and smiled. That was enough to get your heart pounding. “Settling in alright?”

“I’ll find my feet soon enough,” you replied with a huffed laugh. “What are you working on?”

He raised an eyebrow, and right away you felt sheepish, realizing he probably wasn’t used to being questioned so openly. It must not have bothered him too much, though, since he didn’t react beyond that. “Keeping records. Every driver, every match, every result needs to be kept for posterity. We don’t have much from the old world, so it’s important that we leave what we can for future kings.” He made another few scribbles before he set down his charcoal and smoothed his fingers over the immaculate surface of his desk. “That includes what you bring to us. Did Shawn explain our naming tradition to you?”

You nodded and swallowed. “I, uh. I did have a few ideas. But I’ll trust whatever judgement you make.”

Hunter rose to his feet, circling around the desk to stand in front of you. He was close enough to smell the incense on his skin. You tried not to think about it. “I always have time for new ideas. Let’s hear it.”

“Sparks.” Even now, it sounded like the most natural sound in the world. “Ty Sparks. If I am to spark the fires of the future, my name should inspire that.”

Hunter seemed to consider this for a moment, then smiled. “We sort of already have a Ty, but you’re on the right track. Sparks. I like that. What about Cadence Sparks?”

“Cadence. Cadence.” You rolled the sound around a few times in your mouth. It had a heroic feel to it. You beamed. “It’s perfect.”

“Then kneel.” You did so hurriedly, as Hunter placed a warm, heavy hand on the crown of your head. “Cadence Sparks, there are many warriors in this world, but none like you. Do you wish to stand with us and prove your worth?”

“I do.” Your heart hammered with excitement somewhere in your throat.

“And will you protect this family with your life just as we will protect you with ours?”

“I will.”

“And should you stand out among our ranks and become a champion, do you swear to defend your title with dignity and honor, setting the best example you can for the champions of tomorrow?”

“I swear.”

Hunter’s hand moved down, his fingertips skimming oh so gently over your cheek to cup your chin and tilt it up. It was like looking at him for the first time, the handsome king that came out of the horizon to save your life and change your world forever. “Rise, Cadence Sparks. And welcome to NXT.”

Suddenly overcome with emotion, you leapt to your feet and threw your arms around his neck. You panicked for a split second - this was most certainly _not_ how you showed a king his due respect - but to your surprise, he embraced you back and chuckled into your hair. You felt your face flush a deep red. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

“It’s alright,” Hunter murmured, as if he could hear your thoughts. “This is a big moment. It’s okay if you need to cry.”

You laughed. You knew you should probably have let go by now, but every second you held on, it got harder and harder to consider pulling away. Something about Hunter’s arms around you felt so safe, so warm, so much like _home._ “I just...I’ve never had a family before. Not like this.”

“Mmm. That’s what I love most about this place. The bonds that are forged here last forever.” You inhaled sharply, realizing that he had begun stroking the small of your back. “Some go deeper than others. Some may only exist in passing. But all are equally unbreakable.”

You swallowed, daring to hide your face in his neck. “Like...like this one?”

“Indeed.” Hunter pulled back a little, though he was still smiling, still holding you close. “Though, uh...I should warn you, there is an informal tradition for my personal recruits. Once they’re named and sworn in, I make the effort to personally make them feel welcome.”

Something about his words, combined with the gentleness and intention in his touch, set a deep heat stirring in your belly. Feeling emboldened, you moved even closer, your lips barely an inch apart. “I’m feeling pretty welcome already.”

“Then allow me to seal the deal.” Before you could blink, Hunter closed the distance between you, kissing you with a fierceness you’d never experienced before. His hands dropped to your hips, holding you in place. Not that you would even dream of pulling away now. 

Pressing impossibly closer with a soft moan, you allowed your hands to wander, learning the defined slope of his shoulders, the smoothness of his chest, the hard strength of his biceps. Maybe this had been what you were looking for all along - not just a family, but even just one person you could place your whole trust into. Whatever Hunter asked for now, you knew you would do anything to make it happen. 

Hunter’s mouth moved to claim other parts of your face and neck, all pretense of gentleness gone, his hands busy with removing both your clothes. It proved difficult to blindly shift over toward his bed with both of you unwilling to separate for longer than necessary, but he more than made up for it with his confident and knowing touch. Every inch of your skin that he covered felt electrified. 

His fingers found the spot between your legs that made you cry out just as the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. But he didn’t let you fall back just yet. He pressed on that spot over and over, rough and desperate and everything you wanted. “You like that, baby?” he whispered hotly, briefly sucking the shell of your ear between his teeth. “Gonna let me do whatever I want, isn’t that right?”

“Yes!” you keened, too flushed with desire to think of how wanton you must have sounded. “Please, God, don’t stop!”

He released you when out of desperation you started to buck at his hand, standing over you for far too long, just looking, just taking the sight of you in. “God, look at you,” he said, lost in thought, a hand reaching down to palm his cock. “My perfect prize, all spread out for me. Gonna give it to you so good, baby.”

You whimpered, straining with the effort to keep your legs spread, shamelessly putting yourself on display. “Please,” you begged again. “I’m all yours. Whenever you want me. However you want me. Please, Hunter, touch me.”

“Careful. ‘M gonna want to keep you in my bed forever with talk like that.” At this point, you were very willing to consider that. He spat in his palm, and it was only a little disgusting, but he did at last put a hand on your hip. When at last he finally pushed in, all the breath seemed to leave your body at once. You had to close your eyes then, as the sight of Hunter inside of you, all around you, on top of you, was overwhelming. 

He appeared to steady himself as well, just for a moment, before he began to thrust. Both his hands were on your hips now, holding you in place on the edge of the bed. You almost wanted to tell him to grip harder, to leave bruises, but at that point forming words was impossible. 

You felt his mouth on your chest then, learning with his tongue what his fingers had mapped out only moments ago. You gasped when he hit a nipple, opening your eyes just in time to see his grin. “So fucking hot,” he murmured, thrusting hard enough to make you groan. “Say my name again.”

“Hunter,” you gasped. You reached down with one hand, unable to help yourself. “God, Hunter, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, touch yourself.” His thrusts were brutal now, almost boneshaking. You wouldn’t even have to ask for bruises this time. “Who’s your king, Cadence?”

“_Fuck_ — you! It’s you, Hunter, you’re my king.” God, your name sounded so good in his voice. With your free hand you gripped the sheets, desperate to ground yourself, desperate to finish with him. 

“You need to come, don’t you? Gonna come on your king’s cock? Show me, baby, show me how good you take it.” His breathing came sharply, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d never seen anything so beautiful in your life. 

“Oh God, Hunter, I — “ But you couldn’t even finish your warning. You came with the force of an oncoming storm, hard and fast and forever stuffed into a few seconds. And just as the world seemed to right itself again, Hunter came inside of you with a guttural moan. 

You both laid there for a while, just breathing, just memorizing each other’s warmth, the feel of each other’s skin. He arranged both of you under his blankets, which was a good thing, as you were still too boneless to be of much help. Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind. There were a few more words, a few more lingering and lazy kisses, but you fell asleep in his arms soon after, confident and assured that you were exactly where you belonged.


End file.
